


With a Little Help From My

by sabrina_il (marina)



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Orgy, unusual position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:04:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marina/pseuds/sabrina_il
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GSF PWP, at the reuquest of Roga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Little Help From My

Brendon couldn't put his finger on what was wrong. He and Ryan had been fucking for twenty minutes at least, and it felt great, felt fucking amazing, Ryan on top of him, cock driving into Brendon, both of them sweaty and clutching at each other on the bed. Brendon had his legs wrapped around Ryan's torso and Ryan had one hand on the mattress for support and one on Brendon's hips and they were both panting and yet something was off somehow, wasn't doing it for Brendon for some reason.

"Come on, Ryan," Brendon pleaded. He couldn't figure out what was wrong, so Ryan had to.

"What do you want?" Ryan whined at him, expression changing suddenly, like he'd been holding the complaint back for a while.

"Fuck," Brendon let his head sink into the mattress. This was not boding well for his chances of having a really good orgasm any time soon. They both stilled, catching their breath.

"Don't look at me!" Spencer said, when they both turned to look at him in unison. Spencer had to have the answer. He was good with answers to all things Ryan-and-Brendon-fail-at-communication. He was being totally unfair, lying there and stroking his own cock instead of helping them somehow.

Brendon didn't pout, but it was a near thing. Ryan also looked like he was about five seconds from whining directly at Spencer. Of course that was basically Ryan's default state of being.

"Can I suggest something?" Jon said from the other side of the bed.

Brendon and Ryan exchanged looks.

"Yes," Spencer said firmly.

"Okay," Jon said. "This is going to sound kind of weird," he warned. "Ryan, get off the bed; Brendon, slide down to the edge of the mattress."

Brendon was about to object but then Ryan was pulling out with a sigh and Spencer was gently shoving Brendon toward the edge of the bed and it was too late to voice his objections.

"Kneel on the floor," Jon said, and Ryan did. Spencer made Brendon move until his ass and Ryan's cock were perfectly aligned. "Okay, now go back to fucking him," Jon said.

"This feels pretty stupid," Ryan said, getting Brendon's legs settled over his hips.

"Trust me," Jon said. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

Jon had a point there, Brendon had to admit. He was all quiet and chill most of the time, but then occasionally he'd come in with this suggestion or that idea and Brendon couldn't remember which one of them had been fucking two other dudes on a regular basis for years now and which was the newcomer to this happy arrangement.

Ryan entered him again, sliding in slow and easy, pushing in and setting a quick, satisfying pace, just how Brendon liked. It was kind of a weird angle, felt a bit different, but Brendon couldn't say it made much of a difference. It was good, like before, but not really enough somehow.

"Okay," Jon said, putting a hand on Ryan's back while Ryan was buried in Brendon balls deep. "Now stop."

"What the fuck," Brendon exclaimed, because seriously, they'd just gotten a rhythm going, he was already frustrated – more frustrated than he'd realized, even – and this shit was getting pretty old.

Spencer's hand found his and he laced their fingers together, holding Brendon's hand down on the mattress, stilling him. "Hush," he said, running the fingers of his other hand through Brendon's sweaty hair. Brendon was powerless when people stroked his hair like that; Goddamn Spencer fucking Smith and his dirty tricks.

"Brendon, raise your legs," Jon said. "Put your knees on Ryan's shoulders."

Normally Brendon would have said there was no way in hell that position would have worked. None of them were that flexible; it would have been either awkward or uncomfortable or both. But somehow, with Ryan on the floor and him on the mattress, he put his legs on Ryan's shoulders and it fit. He didn't have to be doubled over, Ryan didn't have to twist himself into a pretzel, it just worked. And then Ryan cock actually pushed in and in and in and fuck that was really deep. More than Brendon was used to, somehow.

"Fuck," Brendon half-moaned, squeezing Spencer's hand.

"Right," Jon said, just as Ryan started to pick up the pace. "Brendon I'm gonna move your legs now."

Ryan made a sound, somewhere between surprise and distress. Jon's hand was on his back again and he leaned closer to Ryan, although his words were still audible to Brendon. "Don't worry, this'll feel even better."

Jon wrapped a hand around one of Brendon's ankles and pulled it down, off Ryan's shoulder, letting Ryan hold onto Brendon's calf and press it against his side. Then he took Brendon's other ankle and moved it to Ryan's other shoulder, now empty, making Brendon's leg form a diagonal line across Ryan's chest.

"Now," Jon said, "Go."

Ryan thrust in again, picking up the pace right where they left off and fuck, fuck Brendon practically crushed Spencer's hand in his and gasped, loud and shocked, breath catching in his chest. The new position meant his balls were squeezed between his own thighs; gentle, warm pressure closing in around him with every one of Ryan's thrusts. And Ryan's cock felt different somehow, like Brendon's body was unusually closed, legs barely spread apart, but Ryan was still going deep, reaching his fucking prostate every fucking time.

"Fuck, Brendon," Ryan moaned, eyes hot and desperate. "Fuck, you feel..." Ryan closed his eyes and bit his lip, apparently losing track of his train of thought and suddenly Brendon realized Jon was still on the floor with Ryan, doing something behind Ryan's back – doing something to Ryan – chin resting on Ryan's free shoulder.

Ryan's thrusts sped up suddenly, almost erratic, he breathed out "Fuck, Jon," and Brendon heard Spencer's voice say, "What are you doing?" Spencer sounded hungry and intrigued and Brendon knew the words had been meant for Jon.

"I'm fingering him," Jon said, talking to Spencer but locking eyes with Brendon and fuck, fuck Brendon tore himself away from Jon's gaze to look at Ryan, face twisted up and mouth open, hips burying themselves in Brendon one deep, slow thrust at a time and Brendon felt like between what he was seeing and what he was feeling his skin was about to burst into flames with how hot it all was.

"I'm about to add a second finger," Jon said, still narrating for Spencer's benefit, and Brendon felt Ryan's hand squeeze painfully around his calf. "Don't worry Spence, I'll let you have his ass first, once he's done with Brendon," Jon said.

Brendon couldn't hear his own moan over the sound of Spencer's and Ryan's. Jon chuckled. "Told you guys," he said.

Brendon's hand reached for his own cock, red and drooling against his stomach, but Spencer intercepted him. He grabbed Brendon's wrist and dragged his hand back up, licking Brendon's palm and pushing it back down to its original destination. When Spencer wrapped both their hands around Brendon's cock all Brendon could do was jerk and twist and moan against Spencer's neck until the sounds became muffled by Spencer's lips. Ryan was still fucking into him, slow and deep and thorough, winding Brendon up in a steady rhythm, and now he had Spencer's hand over his own, jerking him off, massaging under the head, sliding up and down the shaft. He was going to come any minute now, he knew it, could feel it in his bones, and then long, slender, clever fingers, Ryan's fingers, slid between his thighs, cupping his balls and applying increased pressure when Brendon's thighs squeezed together on Ryan's next thrust. Brendon yelled, loud and hoarse even to his own ears, and came all over himself and Spencer and God Ryan just kept fucking him through all of it, kept squeezing his balls until Brendon was whimpering, hyperventilating, grabbing at Spencer, unable to form words.

Ryan's hand withdrew, and no one was touching Brendon's oversensitive cock any longer and Ryan's cock was still deep in him but they were both still – all four of them were still – while Brendon caught his breath and licked his lips and tried to get his head back together. Fuck, fuck Jon's ideas were always so fucking awesome.


End file.
